


A Bunch of Mystrade

by Pastel_Punk



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cat Ears, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 11:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12132012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Punk/pseuds/Pastel_Punk
Summary: A big collection of a bunch of word prompt Mystrade dabbled I've done. All of these are sweet enough to rot your teeth. Should be updated fairly regularly. This is my first work on this site, so I hope you enjoy!





	1. Valentines

Mycroft shifted nervously from foot to foot on the DI's doorstep, a box of chocolates in his hands. He had, of course, gotten the best money could buy. He had been standing there for about 3 minutes now trying to work of the nerve to just knock on the bloody door. He was Mycroft Holmes for godsake, this should be easy! He steeled himself and knocked on the door, hearing Greg move about before he opened the door. "Oh." He blinked up at the taller man. "Hullo Mycroft. Uh, come on in." He stepped back, letting him in. "So, what brings the British government to my house, eh?" Greg quirked an eyebrow at Mycroft, who looked rather uncomfortable and was blushing a rather brilliant pink. "W-well, eh, today is valentines day, and I decided that I should get you something, s-since, that's normally what couples do." He thrust the box forward, not meeting Greg's eyes. Was this even a good idea? What if Gregory thought he was showing off with how expensive it was? What if he didn't like it? Would he just laugh at him?? He blinked when the box was taken from his hands and a kiss was pressed to his cheek. "Aaw, thank you Myc." Greg smiled at him as Mycroft bypassed pink entirely and went a dark shade of red. "That's really sweet of you. Never took you for the romantic type." For once, he seemed lost for words. 'A day to mark in the history books' Greg thought wrily. He walked over to the couch and sat down, patting the coushin next to him. "Well, these looked like they cost a sum. Be a shame of you didn't get any." He said, grinning. Mycrofts eyes flicked to the box and back to him. "I couldn't." Even to him his protest sounded halfhearted. Greg just smirked at him and beckoned him over. Mycroft settled on the couch next to him, raising an eyebrow when a chocolate was brought to his face. He gazed fondly at the man holding it, a smile forming. He leaned forward and kissed him. "Thank you, Gregory."


	2. Thunderstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out that the British government isn't as fearless as Greg thought

A frankly terrifying storm raged outside as Greg reclined in one of Mycrofts plush armchairs. He had been considering staying the night, and then the storm had hit, not giving him a choice. He had promptly settled down comfortably in a chair to weather the storm as Mycroft finished up with whatever fancy government things the man did. He had flicked on the tv for a bit of ambient noise to drown out the thunder, and was just starting to nod off; when a loud *crack!* sounded and the room plunged into darkness. Greg swore, the sudden loss of light jolting him fully awake. He stood and fumbled his way to the door of the media room, pulling it open, only to immediately walk into something. Or rather, he corrected, some"one". "Are you alright?" Mycofts face was barely visible in the dark, despite him being fairly close. "Fine. Takes more'n a couple o' shadows ta scare me." Greg responded lightly, grinning; his eyes narrowed as he adjusted to the lack of light. Mycroft frowned, peering down the darkened hallway behind him. "The backup generator should have started working by now." He muttered, before moving off down the hall. Greg tailed him, watching as he rustled through a drawer in the kitchen, pulling out two torches and flicking his on. He then strode back the way they came, passing the media room and opening a panel in the wall. He flicked a few switches on the now revealed circuit board. Nothing happened. He sighed. "It appears we'll be in the dark for a bit, my apologies Gregory." "It's fine. We can just curl up on the couch and tell ghost stories." He said jokingly, holding the torch under his chin and wiggling his fingers with a large grin. He got a rather exasperated one in return. "Very well, but I warn you, I've no talent for this sort of thing." "Good, that's the point." Greg cheerfully took his hand and led him back to the media room. As they entered, a bright flash momentarily lit re room, followed almost immediately by startlingly loud thunder. Mycroft gripped his hand marginally tighter. Greg didn't say anything, leading him to the couch and curling up against him once they were seated. Another flash lit the room, followed by a sound so loud the windows rattled. Mycroft made a somewhat undignified sound and clutched Greg's arm. "You alright?" Greg asked softly, putting a hand on Mycrofts arm, noticing even in the dark that he had gone a bit white. "Of course, it merely startled me." His calm response was ruined moments later when the windows shook again and his grip grew tighter as he unconsciously moved closer to Greg. "Are you afraid of thunder?" Mycroft scoffed. "No, of course not." " . . ." " . . . Perhaps." Greg chuckled, pulling him close and kissing him chastely. "Well then, let's see if I can take your mind off it, yeah?" He pulled a blanket over them, the two cuddling together to wait out the storm. Greg talked softly, really just rambling, crooning softly in his ear. Soon, Mycroft dropped off and Greg gazed it him lovingly, marveling at how serene he looked, and thanking his lucky stars that it was him that got to see this. Because honestly, he wouldn't trade it for anything, ever. Even if they were going to be stiff from sleeping on the couch. He smiled softly, settling down and joining his lover in the land of dreams. The smile never faded once through the night.


	3. Sweets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft has a sweet tooth

Mycroft was staring, unamused at a, by contrast, t h o r o u g h l y amused Greg. "Gregory." "Mm?" He could hear the laughter in his voice. "What is this?" Said offending object was a plum strudel. Greg had taken to leaving sweets on Mycrofts desk or table when he was away after learning of his terrible sweet tooth (that may or may not exist because no one could prove ANYTHING), and he was beginning to lose his patience. "What, I'm not allowed to spoil my boyfriend?" He batted his eyes at a frustrated Myrcoft. "Y-you are, but-""But?" ". . ." He struggled with the words for a moment. " . . . Why this?" He finished a bit weakly. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Greg fluttered his eyelashes again. "Gregory." Mycroft was losing patience very fast. Greg pouted. "What?" He yelped as hands slammed down on either side his head and Mycroft loomed over him. "You will not test my patience." He pulled back just as fast, leaving Greg looking a bit dazed. "Yessir." He breathed, stumbling out of the office on shaky legs. Holy hell that was hot. Mycroft smirked behind him.

Greg, however, got the last laugh, for when he poked his head back in about 15 minutes later, the pastry was gone, and it wasn't in the trash. He narrowly dodged a pen thrown by a blushing Mycroft before walking down the hall chuckling. God he loved that man.


	4. Teddy-Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft is Greg's teddy bear

"Sweatheart?"  
"No."  
"Honey?"  
"No."  
"Snookums?"  
At that Mycroft visibly winced. "Please god no." Greg pouted. "You're no fun!" He poked his cheek. The two of them were sprawled out on the couch, as it was one of the rare days when their time off matched. Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me if I can't see how giving each other ridiculous names is "fun"." Greg giggled. Even when he was laying haphazardly on a couch, (seriously, what was it with holmeses and sitting normally?), Mycroft still managed to look ridiculously haughty. Though admittedly, the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that his feet were over the back of the couch, so he was rather upside down. "Becaauussee," Greg singsonged, overly cheerful, "It's cute!" He emphasized his point by fluttering his eyelashes. Mycroft snickered. "Perhaps we don't know each other as well as I presumed." Greg heaved an overdramatic sigh, flopping back onto Mycrofts stomach and ignoring his mostly for show irritation. "Hmmmm, what abouuut . . ." he thought for a moment, "Teddy bear?" "I fail to see how I resemble a stuffed bear." Greg grinned, flipping over to rest his head on his hands. "Weell," "Oh good lord." "Hush you! First of all then, you're certainly grumpy enough to be a bear." He poked him sharply in the stomach. "Ow!" "Second, you're adorable, just like a teddy!" "I most certainly am not!" "Sure you are. Third, you're soft and great for hugging." "How kind." Mycroft muttered sarcastically. "Fourthly, you're cute!" "You already said that." Greg smirked, as myc was starting to go rather pink. "Well its true." "Is not." "Is so." "Is not." "Hmmm, nope, you're a cutie!" "Gregory please-" "Nuh-uh. You're my adorable vaguely terrifying boyfriend whom I love veeery much." At this point mycroft had gone scarlet from embarrassment. Greg smiled widely, cuddling up to him. He heard mycroft mutter something under his breath. "What was that?" "I said, 'I suppose you're not terrible." "Oi!" Scowling, he shoved mycroft off the couch, though humour shone in his eyes, and he soon joined in his partners laughter. "I love you, my teddy bear." Mycroft, who's cheeks wear already flushed from laughter, once again went a lovely shade of scarlet. "And I you, Gregory."


	5. Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I blame my friend for this one

Greg couldn't help but laugh as Mycroft stood in the doorway to the living room looking more dead inside than he had ever seen him. "Gregory." Honestly he almost felt bad at how bewildered and dismayed the elder Holmes sounded. "Why are you wearing cat ears?" Almost. "What, you don't like them?" Mycroft visibly startled when the ears folded back against his head. "How on earth-" "they're battery powered." Greg explained quickly, hoping to prevent what looked like an oncoming heart attack. "Er, so's the tail." He added sheepishly as it flicked around behind him. "Ah. To reiterate, why?" "'Cause I wanted to be a cat." Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning wearily against the door frame. "Gregory." "Yeees~?" Greg drawled, looking at him calmly from his spot on the ground. Mycroft gestured helplessly, at a loss for words. Greg smirked, standing up and sauntering over. He leaned in close enough that their lips almost touched. "Can't I be you're pretty kitty?" He purred, his voice rough. Well then, so much for preventing that heart attack. "Hmm?" Greg prompted gently, as Mycroft had yet to answer and had gone a rather spectacular shade of red. He dragged his nails gently down the front of his suit, toying with the watch chain. He tugged it lightly. Mycroft merely blinked at him. Chuckling Greg pulled him into a heated kiss. He chuckled darkly, shoving Mycroft against a wall. "Kitty wants to play."


	6. Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft wears glasses. Who knew?

"Hey Myc, have you seen my, uh, . . ." Greg trailed off. Mycroft turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?" "Oh Jesus Christ." "Gregory?" Greg wheezed slightly, before attempting to regain his composure. Mycroft was wearing glasses! He didn't even know he needed them. And holy virgin Mary did they look good on him. Mycroft subtly cleared his throat, and Greg started, flushing. "Oh, uh, I was just . . ." he furrowed his brow. "Actually I forgot." "Oh really." Mycroft looked faintly amused. "Are you alright? You're looking rather pink". "Who me? No I'm fine. I'm good. Everything's fine." Greg laughed somewhat nervously. "Are you sure?" Mycroft asked, standing. He looked concerned. "Yep!" Greg all but squeaked as his lover stood over him. Not that he could help it. "You really are quite red. You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" Greg all but fainted when Mycroft eyed him over the top of his specs. 'God but the lord is testing me today.' "You wanna know the truth?" Again with the raised eyebrow. "By all means." Greg took a deep breath. "You in glasses is the absolute sexiest thing I have ever seen and right now I want nothing more than for you to have me feel like a kid who stuck his hand in the cookie jar and then shag me senseless over your desk." He ended his short speech by pulling Mycroft in for a bruising kiss that left them both a mess by the end. "Perhaps I should wear these more often." Mycroft muttered somewhat dazedly. "Please do."


	7. Bedsheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pillow forts are the best

Greg took it back. THIS was the absolute most dead inside he had ever seen his lover. He had taken one look at the living room and put his head in his hands. "Isn't this cool? I made it myself!" Greg called with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than strictly necessary. Mycroft didn't answer, but had at least taken his head out of his hands, opting instead to dismayedly survey the damage. Though it wasn't really damage per-say. Greg had, on a bored whim, hung bedsheets and stacked pillows everywhere, building himself quite an awesome fort if he did say so himself. And he did. "I do hope you're not expecting me to join you in there." Greg giggled hysterically at the level of concern on his lovers face. "N-nope! No grownups allowed!" "You're right at home then, I presume." Greg tossed a pillow at him. "Hey! I'm an adult! I have a respectable job and pay taxes just like everybody else!" "And you build pillow forts in the living room." Mycroft said dryly. "What's your point?" He just sighed. "You have twenty minutes to clean this up." "Grouch." Greg stuck his tongue out at him. "Infant." Mycroft began to walk away. "Love you too~." Greg sing-songed, snickering when he heard mycroft presumably stub his toe and swear. "Language!" "You are completely ridiculous." Greg loudly blew him a kiss, laughing at the exasperated sigh he got in return.


	8. Briefcase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft needs to learn to relax

Greg was lazily scrolling through his phone, somewhat disgruntled. They were supposed to be on a holiday damnit. But no, Mycroft "can't take a bloody holiday" Holmes had to go off and do whatever secret government stuff he did. Greg should have taken his phone before they left. Except that he didn't much fancy a visit to Serbia or wherever the hell they sent criminals because god forbid Mycroft was without his phone. He was worse than a damn teenager with the thing. Greg lay on the bed moping for a bit longer before he noticed that there was a briefcase propped against the wall. Had he really brought a bloody breifcase on vacation!? Greg groaned, putting his head in his hands. This man was impossible. He got up and inspected the object. Not because he was checking for hidden guns or anything, though that would be awesome. He carefully picked it up. Struck with a bit of good humour he straightened his back and struck an impatient pose. "Holidays are so tedious." He said, doing a frankly terrible impression of his partner. "I would much prefer to work myself into the ground and not eat for days on end and then wonder why my sleep schedule is so terrible. Oh dear it looks like I need to go save the world again." "If you wanted me to stay in you could have simply said so." Greg gave an undignified yelp and dropped the briefcase, diving behind the bed. "You startled me!" He glared accusingly at mycroft, though it would have been more intimidating if more could be seen of him than his eyes. Mycroft chuckled. "My apologies." Nevermind the fact he didn't look the least bit sorry. "I don't think you could take a day off." Greg still looked a bit miffed at being scared practically out of his wits. "I'm fairly certain I could." "Then give me your phone." ". . ." "Your phone, Mycroft." ". . . Must I?" "I can't believe this." Greg muttered, falling back on the bed. There were a few moments of silence before a black mobile landed next to his head. "I've instructed Anthea not to bother me unless it is of the utmost importance." Greg grinned and got up, kissing him on the cheek. "There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" "Mmm." "Now, should we go have fun? Or will that send you into cardiac arrest?" Greg squeaked as he was shoved back onto the bed. "You're miserable." Mycroft huffed, though he couldn't keep a small smile off his face. "Mm, I know. C'mere." Greg waited for the bed to dip as mycroft sprawled next to him before curling up against him. "Love you." "Hmph." "This is the part where you say,'I love you too Gregory, you mean the world to me and have the BEST sense of humour." Mycroft snorted. "Not hardly." "Alright you old git, be quiet and cuddle with me."  
.  
.  
.  
"I believe you are older than me."  
"Shut it, you."


	9. Pinetrees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out in the country

Lo and behold Mr. Workaholic actually could relax. You just needed to completely remove him from civilization first. The two of them had gone out to a nice little (using the world "little" loosely) cabin he owned in the country to get away from work for a bit. It had actually been Mycrofts idea. And so, they had taken a week off and had gone to relax for a bit. Though admittedly Greg wasn't strictly relaxing right now. He was cutting firewood. There were two reasons for this. One, they were running low and although they technically didn't need the fireplace it was nice, and two, he had always wanted to try this. He had been raised more in the suburbs and had never gotten a chance. So there he was, standing next to a pile of chopped wood, sweaty and wearing an old flannel with the sleeves turned up, feeling like a damn majestic lumberjack. "Gregory?" Mycroft called from inside. He had gone out earlier to restock, resulting in good natured teasing about how Greg was "shocked you actually know how to shop!". "I'm out back!" He picked up the axe again and gave it a mighty swing just as Mycroft stepped outside. "Oh my." It was said so softly he almost didn't hear it. "What was that love?" Greg turned, grinning widely to find him staring rather appreciatively. "Like what you see?" He winked. "I suppose." "Sarcastic git. C'mon, are you saying you don't like these sweet muscles?" Greg flexed, grunting. "Gregory for the love of god." "You know you want a piece of this baby!" "Maybe if you shower first." "Hmmm, I dunno, I think I smell pretty manly right now." "Gregory." "I'm becoming one with nature!" "You're becoming ridiculous. I worry for your sanity, truly." "How kind." "Isn't it?" Greg chuckled. "Fine, fine, I'll wash up." He sauntered inside, quickly kissing mycroft on his way in and throwing him another wink. Mycroft merely laughed and shook his head. This man was truly a treasure.


End file.
